There is something about an alarm clock going off that seems to bring out the primal beast in cats. I’m not sure if my alarm carries an internal high-pitched whistle? If every time 7:20 rolls around there’s a sudden release of catnip in the farm air? I suspect scientists will congregate at my house soon to test.

On mornings the cats let me actually sleep all the way through til 7:20, here is what happens.

7:20am. Michael Buble begins singing The Way You Look Tonight. Within 30 seconds Spook appears and mews, demanding being petted. He eventually settles on my left side while I grope for the snooze. Marmalade hisses at Spook and goes to lay on the floor. Oscar bleats (yes, just like a sheep) and circles my head, wanting his treats. I pet him over the top of Spook and eventually pull out the water bottle, scaring the bejeebers out of Oscar, but gaining me another 3 minutes.

7:25am. Sylvester (the 20lb’er) ambles over and plops down right next to my pillow, purring. I desperately lean over Spook, dislodging him, and hit the snooze. Spook plops immediately back into place, Marmalade and Oscar get into a fight over who gets out the door first and Sylvester stomps off because I haven’t pet him enough.

7:26am. Major hissing at the door, a pillow is thrown and hissing stops. Spook doesn’t move, he’s possibly comatose. Sylvester tromps off to stand next to the alarm clock. Oscar appears on the nightstand, and begins clanging the lamp pulls against the metal base. Pinggggg, Pingggg, Pinggg.

7:27am. Marmalade picks a fight with Tygrrr who is patiently waiting outside the bedroom door. Sylvester begins to eat my printed out manuscript that is lying on the nightstand. Oscar gets one more dose of water, then leaps off the bed, landing directly in the middle of the Marmalade/Tygrrr WWE wrestling match.

7:28am. Sylvester gets a sharp word, Spook is a dead weight on my side. I can’t get out from under the covers. WWIII is taking place in the living room.

7:29am. Sylvester begins to dance, somewhat of an Irish clog on any and every single loose piece of paper on the floor, flinging them wildly over his head. Spook, having been finally dislodged, digs his claws in to my side, hoping to get me to stay. Marmalade appears to be the victor this morning having pranced off, leaving Oscar and Tygrrr to battle it out for 2nd place.

7:30am. Final song from Michael Buble. The TURN OFF THE ALARM button is pulverized. Cats leap out of my path as I stomp to the bathroom and slam the door shut. Little paws immediately appear under the doorway. I yell PRIVACY!! when more paws appear. WWIV appears to be happening in the bathroom hallway.

7:31am. I appear at my computer, sweaty and wild-eyed. I open a bag of treats and spread them from one of the desk to the other, feeding all cats in one fell swoop.

7:32am. I sit in front of the computer and bring it online.

7:33am. I stand up, open the door to the outside world, as all cats appear to have forgotten how the cat door works.

7:34am. Sit in front of the computer. Trembling. Blood pressure is 200/178. Dribbles of sweat course down my spine. I open the email box. 68 unread messages.

7:35am. One by one, all kitties stop by, rubbing their head against my arm, saying good morning mom.

sigh. Life with the Crazy Cat Lady is never boring! enjoy the video below!

Carrie, tell me those blood pressure numbers were not the real ones! Having pets is supposed to be calming! Love the Simon’s Cat video. He must have spent a night or two at your house! And Michael Bublé … my fave too … we love that he’s Canadian!